A Duhallow Migrant
He hails from the Land where the Araglen flow
On to the Blackwater by dyke and hedgerow
In fancy he can hear the male robin sing
And he sees the old fields in their wildflowers of Spring.
A young man in his prime in his twenty fourth year
In his flights of fancy the home fields to him near
But for old Duhallow he doesn't have tears to shed
He's happy in the now his best days of him ahead.
A Duhallow migrant from distant kiskeam
With an Aussie wife and a son and a home to his name
He left his own Homeplace five Summers ago
And in this Southern Country his fortune does grow.
With his wife and their year old son for a five weeks stay
He will return to Kiskeam this year in mid May
When the fields of Duhallow look healthy and green
And bluebells are blooming on the ditch of bohreen.
Comments about this poem (A Duhallow Migrant by Francis Duggan )
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